


Thanksgiving

by saekokato



Series: First Line Meme [1]
Category: Bandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-23
Updated: 2011-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-19 02:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekokato/pseuds/saekokato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Brian's message said 'get your asses here asap.  don't fuck around sightseeing.'</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Thanksgiving

**Author's Note:**

> First Line Meme Ficlet #1: _Brian's message said 'get your asses here asap. don't fuck around sightseeing.'_ From Strange Country.

Brian's message said, 'get your asses here asap. don't fuck around sightseeing.'

All of Brian's messages had the same underlying urgent disapproval though, so Bob wasn't too worried by it. Patrick, on the other hand, was already up and moving. Packing the suitcases and turning the coffee pot on, in the bathroom before Bob had even put the phone back on the side table after telling Brian to bite them.

"Seriously, Bryar. Up and at 'em," Patrick mumbled around his toothbrush. He was standing in the doorway and glaring. It would have been more effective if he hadn't been wearing Bob's ratty Leonardo boxers with toothpaste-y drool running down his chin. "Traffic is going to be bad enough as it is."

Bob stretched instead of answering him. It'd been a hectic couple of months between Patrick's solo album being nominated for a couple awards and the two of them recording a six-track demo, and they'd made sure to put a decent dent in their private time backlog last night. They'd checked in a little early, too, but that didn't mean that they'd actually gotten any sleep. Hell, it wasn't even eight yet. Bob knew that there had to be a law somewhere that said people were supposed to sleep in on holidays.

"Bob," Patrick said. Patrick had taken the toothbrush out of his mouth, but it still doesn't make him look any less ridiculous. Maybe if the boxers hadn't slid so far down his hips. Or if his mouth hadn't been framed by foamy toothpaste.

Bob should have his head examined for finding that sexier than hell.

"Shouldn't you be a little puddle on the bed next to me?" Bob asked. "I'm pretty sure I didn't dream half of the shit we did last night." He gestured at the wrecked sheets around him, at the crumpled, and most definitely stained, comforter on the floor by the far wall. He even wiggled his eyebrow at Patrick.

Patrick, of course, just rolled his eyes and disappeared back into the bathroom. "Hurry the fuck up, Bryar. I am not dealing with a bitchy Schechter just because you decided to be lazy." The shower turning on drowns out whatever else Patrick continued to say.

Bob rolled his eyes at the ceiling, but climbed out of bed anyway. A naked, wet Patrick was an infinitely sexier reality than a scantily clad, toothpaste-foamy Patrick. And if Patrick was feeling energetic enough to be up and moving after only four hours of sleep, then he could handle the ideas currently rolling through Bob's head.

Bob made sure to text Brian that they were going to be late for dinner. He was a good friend like that.


End file.
